


Things You Said

by flares



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Tags to be added as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flares/pseuds/flares
Summary: Prompt fills that start with "Things you said..." Each chapter is a complete stand-alone fic.





	1. Niall/Zayn + while we were driving

**Author's Note:**

> Ships and their prompts are the title of the fic, and the link to the original prompt fill on my tumblr is in the end notes. Individual warnings, if any, are listed in the notes before the fic itself, and nothing has been beta'd, only proofread by myself.
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ [zlall](https://zlall.tumblr.com) if you want to yell about ziall (which I'm always open to doing)!!!

“What’s this, then?”

Zayn glances up from his phone to look at Niall, eyes still on the road but holding an unmarked CD in his hand. It probably fell out of the side pocket of his backpack. God. Heat rushes to his face, and he reaches over to quickly grab it from his fingers. Niall’s eyebrows raise behind his sunglasses.

“It’s nothing.”

Niall hums, turning on his blinker. “Dunno if I believe you, but okay.”

With that, Niall leaves it alone. He continues straight, following the roads that they all know too well towards the airport. Niall drums his hands on the wheel, bopping his head to the music playing quietly over the radio.

“Music,” Zayn eventually murmurs, half-hoping that Niall won’t even hear him. “Mine.”

Niall spares him another glance, reaching over to pat Zayn’s shoulder. “Nice. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to, like, I was just curious.”

Zayn nods, looks out the window and pointedly doesn’t think about how warm Niall’s hand is where it’s drifting down his arm.

Over the past few months, they’ve been texting back and forth every other day. It’s never about anything serious, just tidbits about their days, the usual congratulatory texts whenever the other releases a single, the such. They were both headed out of London -- Niall to LA and Zayn to New York -- and Zayn didn’t think much of it when Niall offered to pick him up on his way to the airport.

That’s a lie. Zayn really, _really_ over-thought the whole thing.

It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in person in ages. Since the American Music Awards that one time, Zayn’s pretty sure. They didn’t slip right back into the comfortable friendship that they once had, but it wasn’t as awkward as Zayn thought it might be.

Now, looking over at Niall, Zayn’s heart aches. Niall looks different: blonde no more, stubble across his jaw, shoulders broader than he remembers them being. Still, Zayn’s heartbeat stutters a bit just looking at him, the way it always has.

And that’s what makes Zayn push the CD into the player.

Niall makes a quiet, surprised noise in the back of his throat, immediately falling quiet as Zayn’s voice trickles through the speakers. Zayn tries his very hardest not to get embarrassed, instead tips his head back and shuts his eyes. Listens to his own lyrics, about love and loss and ache and regret.

“Zayn…” Niall starts, trails off. Opening one eye, Zayn watches Niall run his fingers through his hair, let out a short breath. “This is really good. Like… _really_ great, Zayn.”

He opens his mouth to say more, but decides against it as the second song starts. Zayn shuts his eyes again, too overwhelmed to try to decipher the emotions flitting across Niall’s face.

They listen to all four songs on the disc like that, Niall choosing to wait until the first song starts up again to speak.

“You wrote these, yeah?” Zayn nods, eyes still squeezed shut. “I can tell, yeah. They’re, um…”

Niall trails off again, and Zayn breathes out against the anxiety clamping around his lungs. “About you. They’re about you.”

“Oh.”

And then Niall turns on his blinker again, making a rather abrupt right turn onto a dirt road. Zayn’s startled into opening his eyes when the car stops, jerking him against the seatbelt.

“When did you write them?”

“Not wasting time, okay,” Zayn says, stalling as he sits up a bit straighter in his seat. “‘Bout two months ago. Recorded them pretty well straight away, producers sent me the tracks a few nights ago.”

Knocking off his sunglasses, Niall scrubs at his face and lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re serious, though? They’re about… _me ?”_

Zayn nods, shrugs, looks back out the window and tries not to buzz right out of his skin.

“And that’s, like, real now? Like they’re still true right now?”

He looks back when he feels Niall’s hand cover his own where it’s clenched on top of his leg. Niall’s eyes are bright, even in the shade under the trees.

“Yeah, still feel the same. If that’s okay, I mean.”

Niall laughs again, leans over to plant a slanted kiss that lands half on Zayn’s cheek and half on his nose. “Of course it is, Zayn. What the fuck? Way more than okay.”

The way Niall is grinning at him, sunny but still soft like he’s always been, has Zayn smiling slowly back at him. Niall kisses him again, this time catching Zayn’s lips, though he doesn’t stop smiling so it’s more teeth than anything.

“Same, Zayn. Mine are about you. Mostly, like,” Niall says, lips brushing against Zayn’s cheek. “I-- for ages. Didn’t think you batted my way.”

Zayn rolls his eyes at Niall’s eyebrow waggle, reaches up to trace his fingers across Niall’s face, down his nose and under his eyes and to the dimple that comes out when Niall smiles big enough.

“You’re going to New York?” Zayn hums in affirmation, moves his thumb to press against the corner of Niall’s mouth. “Want company?”

Zayn nods, hurriedly moving so he can kiss Niall properly, tilting his chin up with his knuckles and moving his other hand to the back of Niall’s neck to bring him closer. The gear shift is probably jabbing into Niall’s stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care much, pressing as much of their bodies together that he can manage.

“I’ll switch my ticket.”

“Yeah, please,” Zayn grins. He takes a look at the clock, and figures they have more than enough time, to catch their flight and otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr post can be found here!](https://zlall.tumblr.com/post/178902297502/ziall-w-prompt-7)


	2. Niall/Zayn + at the kitchen table

“Where’d you learn to make these?” Niall asks, barely pausing before he’s taking another bite. He looks like he’s in heaven, Zayn thinks, expression serene.

“My mum,” Zayn says, grin widening on his face as Niall makes an appreciative noise and reaches for another samosa. “I take it you’re a fan?”

“How’d you gather that? Understatement of the year.” Niall snorts, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for over two years and you haven’t made me these before. Or, like even asked Trisha to make these when we’ve been there to visit. I’m genuinely angry at you, now. Get out of my house.”

Zayn shrugs, taking a much smaller bite than the ones Niall’s been taking. “I’ll let her know. Maybe I’ll teach you how to make them.”

Quickly, Niall is shaking his head. “No, no. Didn’t you hear me say that I’m mad at you? I want my samosa-making lessons from Trisha Malik. I don’t even know who you  _are_  anymore. What else have you been hiding?”

Zayn laughs, watching Niall’s nose scrunch up as he grins back at him.

“When’s the next time you’re going back to visit?”

And that makes Zayn’s thoughts stutter. “Uh. Was planning on going back in the next few months.”

“Should go back sooner, I think,” Niall says, suddenly sounding serious. Even though he’s trying to play it off, a bit.

“Okay,” Zayn says slowly. “We can do that. But, like, it’ll be harder to get the days off under shorter notice. Why don’t you want to wait? Can still Skype them if you really want to chat with my mum.”

Niall shrugs, mumbles something Zayn can’t make out to himself before he stands up and starts clearing the table. He’s gone a bit red, and his movements are a little too jerky for Zayn to just let it drop.

“Wait, wait,” Zayn says, reaching forward and grabbing Niall’s wrist. Niall halts, looking up at Zayn. He might be holding his breath, Zayn thinks. “What aren’t you telling me? ”

Niall sighs then settles back down in his seat. “Nothing. Can’t I just miss the Maliks? Real and in the flesh?”

“You don’t, though. Not like a drop-everything-and-go-to-Bradford kind of way.” Zayn smiles at him, small, and watches as Niall’s internal debate goes external – practically written on his face – before his shoulders drop in defeat.

“Well,” Niall starts, quiet and a bit shaky with nerves. Zayn feels his stomach drop a bit, because Niall doesn’t get nervous like this around him. Not anymore. “You know.”

Zayn shakes his head, glances down as Niall moves to link their fingers together. Niall drops a kiss to Zayn’s knuckles, then rests his head against them. Confused, Zayn starts stroking Niall’s temple with his free hand.

“Don’t know if I do know,” Zayn says.

Niall sighs, looks up at Zayn again. “Just wanted to ask them something. No biggie.”

And Zayn’s breath catches at the implication there. Or, what  _might_  be the implication there. He could still be jumping to conclusions.

“Sounds like a biggie,” Zayn breathes, squeezes Niall’s hands. “I don’t know what we’re talking about here, Ni. Like, if you’re saying what I think you are.”

Just like that, Niall’s grin is back, soft around the edges. “Well. It’s just that I’ve already talked to my parents, so I figured it’s only fair.” When Zayn still doesn’t say anything, heart lodged in his throat, Niall continues, “You know I want to marry you someday.”

Zayn blinks hard, trying to force away the fuzziness in his vision. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Zayn,” Niall says, tracing around Zayn’s ring finger with his thumb. “As long as you’re okay with it not being a surprise. A few nights ago, I decided that I was going to ask, and, like, I’ve never been good at keeping things from you. I’m kind of really shit at it.”

“That’s fine,” Zayn says. It feels like his thoughts are mentally tripping over themselves, trying to keep up. “I– um. We can visit them next month. And, uh, it’s a yes. And I love you.”

Niall laughs, gently pulling at Zayn’s hands until he meets Niall in the middle of the table. “We can make the plans tomorrow,” he says. It’s said against Zayn’s mouth, since Zayn is already borderline climbing across the table to try to get to Niall, trying to force the  _I love you, I love you, I love you_ ’s circling in his brain onto Niall’s lips. Trying desperately to convey the love that’s coursing so intensely through his body that Zayn feels like he might burst with it. It’s a miracle anything Niall’s saying is intelligible.

“I haven’t asked yet, but I’m glad it is a yes. And I love you, too. In case that wasn’t clear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr post can be found here!](https://zlall.tumblr.com/post/178908177852/omg-im-so-excited-for-any-and-all-writing-you)


	3. Niall/Zayn + when you were scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter for mentions of violence and guns.

Bressie’s voice cuts through the static in Niall’s ear just as Niall’s tip-toeing around a corner.

“Horan? Horan, do you copy?”

Niall taps the sensor on the inside of the metal band around his wrist twice.  _Yes._

“Okay, you’re approaching a bit of a dead spot, so we might be in and out reception-wise. Just as a reminder, the room is still straight ahead, then a left when you reach the end of that hall. Last door on the right after that. Mission is still to release the documents at whatever cost. Understood?”

Niall taps the band twice again, breathes out slowly as he hears loud white noise in his ears, followed by the sound of the reception cutting out. He’s on his own.

As much as Niall hated to admit it, something about this mission is getting to him. He’s done hundreds of them, easy, but this one has his fingers tingling and the constant rock of anxiety sitting in his stomach. He’s trying hard to ignore it, but it’s incredibly difficult, and his hands shake a bit where they’re holding his gun close to his torso. That’ll have to be fixed; no chance he’ll land a shot if his nerves keep escalating the way they are.

In less than two minutes, Niall reaches the end of the dim hallway. He crosses over to the other side so he can take a left, thankful again for the deep red carpets covering the floors. Probably good for hiding bloodstains – Deadpool style, Niall thinks; Zayn would appreciate the reference – but also good for muffling footsteps. Two birds and all that.

The static comes in and out, but he doesn’t hear any voices, so he keeps going on, keeping close to the walls without actually touching them. As usual, Niall is itching to just sprint to the end of the hall, hit  _send_  or whatever – though it’s definitely not going to be as easy as the press of one button – and then get the fuck out of here, but this is the most important thing he’s ever been a part of. And, taking from the tone other agents have used when speaking of it, probably one of the most important things he and the agency will ever do.

So. No pressure.

He’s just about at the end of the hall, the door in his sight and  _so fucking close,_  when the static in his ear is interrupted by a voice.

“Horan! There are people in the room; do  _not_  go in yet. Do you read, Horan?” Niall taps the band twice: Yes. “Have you entered the room?”

Niall halts in his tracks, retreats slowly just so the doorway is out of his line of sight and then some. Zayn’s voice echoes in his ears, and Niall idly wonders why Bressie was switched out, but doesn’t dwell on it. Niall taps the sensor once:  _No_.

An exhale, then Zayn’s voice again. “Good. Our heat monitors detect four bodies. Did you wish to wait or proceed?”

Niall debates, squeezes his eyes shut for a half a second. He’s trained to do this. Usually, four people wouldn’t be an issue worth calling home about – hell, depending on their training, Niall could take up to six people on his own – but Niall hesitates.

The thing is, Niall’s gut is telling him not to. It’s telling him that he has no clue the capabilities of any of these men, no clue what lengths they’d go to. On the other hand, the last agent to attempt this mission died trying to complete it, and the chances that this was their last shot was high. If Niall didn’t do this, the government would disappear again, and they’d have to start all over. And the damage that could be done in just that short time, violence that Niall has dedicated his life to try to prevent…

Niall presses the sensor twice, indicating option two.  _Proceed_.

Zayn inhales sharply, the sound crackling in Niall’s ears, and this time when Niall shuts his eyes, he’s trying to block out the rush of emotions that push at his throat. He wishes he could fucking  _say_  something. Anything.

“Okay. There’s one close to the doorway, just inside and to the left. You could probably get them without entering the room, but there’s another on the right side of the door, and he’ll probably pop outside quick. You probably only have another second after that before the other two are on you. How many bullets do you have?”

Niall nods minutely to no one, double checks the chamber, ignores how his throat catches when he sees the two bullets left there. That’s not ideal. Not ideal at all.

“Niall,” Zayn’s voice, a bit shaky, comes in quietly in Niall’s earpiece. He’s calling him by his first name, and from past experiences with Zayn, Niall knows that this isn’t a good sign. Zayn’s scared. “How many bullets do you have left?”

He tips his head back gently against the wall, looks up at the ornately decorated ceilings and resists the urge to bolt the opposite direction of the door. Resists the now overwhelming urge to open his mouth and speak.  _I love you and I should have fucking told you that_ , and  _I wish that I never joined the agency, so I could be a normal fucking person, except without it I wouldn’t have met you,_ and _I don’t want to live in a world where I don’t know what your laugh sounds like–_

Niall taps at his sensor four times.

“Four bullets. Okay, that’s… not great, but it’ll do.” Zayn sounds like he’s speaking underwater, but that’s probably the adrenaline rushing in Niall’s ears.  _I’m sorry. I love you, please don’t worry about me._ “Be careful. Please, just… please be careful.”

Niall swallows, doesn’t allow himself to think about anything except the mission,and takes the first shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr post can be found here!](https://zlall.tumblr.com/post/178910687587/18-pleaseee)


	4. Niall/Zayn + when you thought I was asleep

Niall shows up unannounced, soup in one hand and what looks to Zayn to be an entire pharmacy shelf in a bag on the other arm.

“Heard you were sick,” he says in explanation, squeezing through the door frame that Zayn has partially blocked with the giant blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “Thought I’d come over and deal with your grumpy-ass so no one else has to.”

Zayn grunts in response, his head already pounding with how loud Niall is talking. And he’s not even being loud, just louder than the near-silence of his apartment.

He follows Niall slowly into his living room, blinking slowly as Niall drops his bags and the soup on the coffee table, fiddles with Zayn’s thermostat, starts folding up the blankets strewn across the floor.

“How are you feeling? Do you have a temperature? How long have you been sick? Do you have orange juice? Never mind, I know you don’t have orange juice. I brought some, so don’t worry.”

Zayn’s head is spinning, and he sits down on the couch without answering any of the questions Niall’s throwing at him. “Can you just… like turn the volume down a little bit?”

Halting his almost frantic-looking cleaning, Niall chuckles, and it’s a little quieter than Niall’s been speaking, so Zayn shuts his eyes in contentment.

“Sorry,” Niall says, humming quietly. “C’mon, I brought you soup. If you could eat it, it’d make me feel a lot better.”

“Glad one of us will feel better,” Zayn murmurs, but he peels his eyes open anyway and reaches for the bowl. When he starts sipping at it, Niall’s smile goes embarrassingly soft. “Stop looking at me like that. Not a baby.”

Niall shrugs. “You are a baby. When you’re sick you are, at least. And I’m going to mother you back to good health.”

“How’d you know I was sick?”

After a long pause, Niall says, “Saw Gigi the other day while I was grocery shopping.”

“We broke up ages ago,” Zayn says even though it’s not really relevant, ignoring the lurch in his stomach. It’s just the flu.

“I know, yeah,” Niall says. “She said you were still friends, still keep each other in the loop. I dunno.”

The soup is really good, so Zayn doesn’t push it further, doesn’t ask Niall why he was asking Zayn’s ex-girlfriend about him. He just lets the soup bowl warm up his hands, lets Niall stick a thermometer under his tongue, obediently swallows the medicine Niall gives him, and lets him tuck him into bed.

When Niall’s tucked him in –  _Snug as a bug in a rug,_  Niall had said, giggling softly – Zayn drifts in and out of consciousness instead of fully falling asleep. His face is half-mashed into his pillow, sweating a little bit with how many blankets Niall has piled on top of him paired with the heat of Niall’s body pressed along Zayn’s back, but his head has stopped pounding for the time being, so he’s not complaining.

“I miss you so much, sometimes,” Niall says quietly. “Not sometimes, like, all of the time, actually. I know you’re asleep, but I really hope you know… or that if you didn’t, your subconscious will, like, pick this up and you’ll know it when you wake up.” Niall pauses. “I think I read somewhere that that happens. Could be bullshit, but I hope not.”

Zayn doesn’t dare say anything, doesn’t even shift to alert Niall that he’s actually more or less awake. Everything around him is fuzzy and warm, and Niall’s holding him closer than he has in a long time. And Zayn’s  _sick,_  so sue him.

“I’m glad that you left, the band,” Niall says, even quieter, now. “I’d do anything for you to be happy. I wish you could have been happier sooner. I’m sorry shit fell through when you did what you needed to do, to be better. I was being selfish.”

Niall tugs Zayn slightly closer, presses more firmly along Zayn’s back and presses his nose against Zayn’s neck. When Niall breathes out, a bit shaky, Zayn feels it, and it makes him hold his own breath.

“I loved you,” Niall says, voice dropping off a bit, now. “I still do. Even though I had to find out how you were doing through your ex-girlfriend, through an awkward,  _awkward_  conversation in the frozen foods aisle. I’m sorry that I didn’t know, because I wasn’t here. That should never have happened.”

With a final, gentle squeeze to Zayn’s waist, Niall lapses back into silence.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for the better part of the past eight years,” Niall says, like an afterthought. “I love you in that way, if, like, this makes its way into your memory somehow. In the friend way and also the I-want-to-date-you way. Why am I explaining this? You’re asleep, so you can’t be, like, confused about that part. Fuck’s sake, Niall, you’re talking to yourself. Get it together.”

Niall’s words become less and less intelligible, more garbled with sleep, and eventually they fade away, until Niall’s just humming quietly against the skin behind Zayn’s ear.

He shouldn’t be so anxious, considering that Niall just intentionally-but-not-really-intentionally bared his heart to him, but Zayn’s heart is still beating loudly in his own ears. Slowly, Zayn moves his hand the short distance until he’s covering Niall’s hand resting on his stomach.

“Mother me back to health, first,” Zayn says, voice still croaky and fucking  _awful_ sounding. “Then I’ll show you how much I love you in the I-want-to-date-you way, too. Yeah?”

Behind him, Niall makes a surprised, sort of choked-sounding noise, then muffles a laugh against Zayn’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay. Deal. I’ll wait until you’re not contagious to kiss you.”

Zayn grins ahead at nothing, sighs contentedly when Niall presses a long kiss against his cheek. “Don’t want to waste any more time, y’know. And you being sick as well isn’t conducive to that.”

“Yeah, yeah, go to sleep, Zayn. Doctor’s orders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr post can be found here!](https://zlall.tumblr.com/post/178913712312/do-12-katelyn-do-it-do-12)


	5. Niall/Zayn + with too many miles between us

“Stop changing your number. Please.”

Zayn actually blinks his eyes open at that, squinting at the sun shining in through the open window. He answered his phone without checking the name – a habit that Gigi had always scolded him for when they were still together – and he checks it now, just to make sure it’s Niall and he’s not hallucinating or something.

“Morning to you too,” he asks, voice croaky with sleep.

“Ay, shit, sorry. It’s not morning where I am, so that’s my bad,” Niall says. “Where are you, then?”

“New York.”

Niall snorts, and Zayn can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. “Then it’s not  _morning,_ you vampire. It’s almost two.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn says, humming as he closes his eyes again. Niall’s voice is nice, always has been. When he turns it down a bit, it’s soothing enough to fall asleep to. Not that that was any challenge for Zayn, Niall would always tease him.  _You can fall asleep anywhere, so I’m not sure that’s such high praise._

The line goes a bit quiet, and Zayn listens to Niall putter around without prompting him to say anything else. He hears a bit of sizzling, and Zayn imagines that Niall’s frying something. Maybe looking at the Jamie Oliver cookbook that he loves so much. Maybe not. Zayn doesn’t ask.

“So, right,” Niall says, quick like he’s just been jolted back into reality. “I need you to stop changing your number.”

Zayn makes a noise in his throat, hopes Niall knows him well enough to know that Zayn wants him to elaborate. His number gets out way too easily, and Zayn just really hates dealing with it. Most of the time he doesn’t tell everyone that his number has changed, because he’ll end up changing it in a months time anyways.

“I miss talking to you,” Niall continues, all casual-like. “And I hate hearing that  _‘The number you have dialled is not in service’_  shite. Know the whole spiel by heart. How sad is that?”

Zayn bites a bit at his lip. “Yeah? You miss talking to me?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” Niall says, no harshness to his voice. “Miss your face as well, like. If you want me to talk about shit I miss.” 

He shuts his eyes, can feel his grin really stretching across his face now. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go too. Here: I miss your laugh. Your voice in general, of course, but mostly your laugh. And how you laugh at everything. Ridiculous. Even when you laugh so hard you snort.”

Niall doesn’t argue against that, instead pauses a moment before he says, voice suddenly serious and tender, “I miss all of you, all the time.”

That makes Zayn’s exhale go shaky. It’s too early for this conversation, he thinks. Any time of day would be too early. He doesn’t know how to process Niall’s words, much less how to respond to them.

“You, uh, miss me too?” Zayn makes an affirmative noise, pretty sure anything out of his mouth right now wouldn’t be intelligible. “I’m glad. Don’t want to be the only sappy one here.”

“You didn’t say,” Zayn manages. “When we talked, you never said…”

“Dunno, thought it was implied,” Niall says, voice a bit muffled. “Thought maybe you were just fine with talking to me twice a year, or whatever. Didn’t know if you were sick of me calling altogether.”

“I’m never sick of you, Niall,” Zayn says. “Never going to be, either. You can always call me.”

Niall forces out a laugh. “But I _can’t._  ‘S why I’m telling you to stop changing your number. I  _want_  to call you. Want to see you, actually, but figure calling is best.”

Pulling his phone away from his ear, Zayn takes a second just to breathe, blink up at his popcorn ceiling, until he hears Niall’s voice through the speakers again.

“… so fucking weird, I know.  _God,_  shit’s so fucking weird, Zayn. I don’t even know where you are at any time, and we used to live out of each other’s pockets. I don’t know what your  _hair_  looks like right now. Isn’t that–”

“Where are you right now?” Zayn interrupts.

There’s a pause, then, “Ireland, right now. Why?”

Zayn breathes out, loud enough that Niall probably hears it. “Want to hang out? I miss all of you, too, Niall.”

Niall laughs again, like music to Zayn’s ears, and says, “Yeah, I’d like that. Just let me know when you’re free and I’ll book a ticket out right away.”

“I know you will,” Zayn says. “I’ll text you whenever I switch numbers from now on, promise. Love you, Nialler.”

“Love you, too, you sap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr post can be found here!](https://zlall.tumblr.com/post/178931968267/ay-ziall-things-you-said-with-too-many-miles)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! <3


End file.
